


The Haunted Manse

by Dragonpud



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood Drinking, Light Bondage, M/M, Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11523243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonpud/pseuds/Dragonpud
Summary: In which Dorian doesn't help at all and only gets himself into trouble with his curiosity. Luckily, the old adage of 'curiosity killed the cat' isn't true in this case, though it does catch something. Or maybe the something caught a Dorian instead?





	1. Mystery Manor

**Author's Note:**

> My first Dragon Age fanfic, so probably will be issues. I have no beta so any mistakes are my own. It always takes me forever to write these, but I'm starting with 2 more half finished chapters, so hopefully I can finish this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inquisitor Faelin Trevelyan's point of view.

“The barrier isn't going to hold out against this much longer, Inquisitor!” Dorian's voice cut in and out despite his best attempt at shouting in Fae's ear. The pelting rain had only made it harder and harder to see, try as she might to peer through the blackness. The shaking trees crackled and what little light that remained only shattered before reaching to the ground, like a broken Chantry window. The thunderous clap deafened her to the rest of his words as the aforementioned barrier shattered. The mage cursed in Tevene, but the rogue only sighed, closing her eyes against next the deluge of pelting water. She distantly heard Cassandra's tired curse from underneath her shield as Fae tried to hover beneath Blackwall's larger shield without much luck while the rest of the party got reacquainted with the torrential rain. It hurt, the constant drumming against overly soaked clothes, the cold settling into her skin until she was sure she creaked as she moved. Too much more of this and I'll be better off as one of Dorian's icicles, she thought with another sigh. Vainly, Fae tried again to peer through the literal wall of rain and tried to brush her sodden hair out of her eyes. She regretted the scant protection her hood offered and grimaced, but moved. It was slightly more useful than standing in place and waiting for mud to pool around their already sodden feet, however, so the rest followed silently. Dorian was too tired to express himself too much beyond the occasional curse as his muddy boots got even muddier. Her once decent leathers were now a much abused and soggy mess and Fae wasn't too sure even Harritt could salvage them. 

Twice more, Dorian tried to replace his barrier to give them some reprieve, but each time, they failed sooner than the last, until the rogue finally rested a gloved hand on his arm and they leaned against one another. The two friends had no illusions against using one another as scant body heat, but she worried he was straining himself. Even his cursing sounded tired. 

_What a great Inquisitor I've turned out to be,_ Fae growled at herself, trying to peer through the rain at the unfamiliar trees. _Lost and unable to tell one tree from another. I can't even see the forest for the trees._ She thought, too tired to be amused at the stupid metaphor that she wasn't even sure of. Her mind was too numb to think it through. Not that what they'd been going through in the Graves were in any way more familiar, but at least she'd known they were on the map the scouts had given them. Good and fucking lost. The Inquisitor narrowed her eyes, sloshing through matted brush, slippery moss and gray-green trees. Her eyes narrowed through the gloom and wet, trying not to inhale through her nose and breath water. _I'm human, not a fish,_ she muttered. A brush of one of her companions against her arm and she turned, glad she could actually see Dorian to her left and he gave her a quirk of a smile. She grimaced in an attempt to return the encouragement, but none of them were used to the forest. _Should have brought Solas,_ she thought to herself, not for the first time. _Or maybe Bull?_ Fae sighed, wishing not all of her Inner Circle were cityfolk.

She must have blacked out because the next thing Fae realized, she was face down in mud and her shins hurt. She groaned and coughed out water and whatever else she'd just inhaled as she blinked up stupidly at Cassandra and Dorian's worried faces. Dorian let out a sigh and the Seeker helped the Inquisitor up. “Ugh,” Fae muttered, glaring at the fallen log that she'd apparently tripped over. Even now, she could barely see it, but was too exhausted to curse at it. The pounding rain echoed against her sore shins and she curled against Cassandra with a whimper. The older woman only pulled the rogue against her and mouthed, “We must continue on, Inquisitor!” as loud as she dared. They'd not come across any cave large enough to contain the four of them and the further they trudged, the less wildlife seemed to exist. The flattened flora surrounding them looked as drowned as they were and Fae briefly wondered if this was normal for the area. What little tracks they'd been able to make were long gone in the blighted monsoon. 

“Something that way!” Blackwall's voice barely drifted to them. It was more Fae saw his mouth moving as he pointed, gathering their attention. The three turned and squinted through the waterfall they were stuck in, but Fae couldn't see anything beyond the next deluge. Gingerly, she tested her foot and winced, but nodded to Dorian and carefully picked her way in the direction of whatever it was the warrior had seen. The gray-green mist didn't change in scenery as they made their way closer. Towering trees threatened to collapse as the distant creak filtered through the rain and the blackness pervading her sight was only heightened by the occasional crack of lightning, briefly lighting their way before making the returning darkness even blacker. The buzz in the air wasn't only due to the Anchor on her hand, but the too-close lightning strikes. She supposed she should be grateful for the trees above them, keeping the strikes from actually hitting them, but the scent of ozone was too thick in her nostrils for comfort. Fae blinked, shaking her hood out of her eyes at the murky shapes slowly forming out of the forest and straightened, focusing on the ground in front of her as her mind tried to connect with what she was seeing. Blackwall was little more than a shape in the darkness as he stood in front of her, though the rogue was pathetically grateful for the solid presence. The man seemed indifferent to the power of the downpour, though she'd heard his distant cursing as much as her own. Unfortunately, it only reminded her of the one who was waiting for her at home. Her own personal defender. Curly blond hair on a sun-tanned face, watching him calling out orders and completely unaware of her scrutiny. For so long, she'd denied her own thoughts until they nearly slapped her in the face. Warmth blossomed through her and she smiled, recalling his stuttering voice and blushing face as he handed her a coin – his lucky coin. A hand on her back and a quiet murmur against her ear pressed her forwards. She opened her eyes to see his face and flinched at the rain.

Surprised the warmth didn't fade, Fae looked up at Dorian's semi-amused face, belatedly realizing his hand wasn't just warm, but _warm_. She sighed, but didn't bother telling him to quit this time. The words didn't want to come as the mage led her forward. She felt his posture shift slightly and wondered who he was looking at over her head, but blinked through the veil of wet and wondered why it looked different. Slowly, the shapes of the behemoth trees morphed from ragged pillars to a distorted wall that matched the rest of the forest, but clearly not a tree, bush or fallen behemoth. Unfortunately, it didn't give them any more relief from the downpour then the canopy far above them. Fae limped along its edge, hoping against hope they'd find the gate soon and trying not to lean against the cold stone that sapped what little strength she had left.

Luck was still with them and Dorian gave a shout of relief (more of a grunt or groan, but _really_ ) and trudged slightly faster. The rest followed in what couldn't possibly have been considered eagerly, afraid to hope the mage had actually found something; a cave. Shelter. Somewhere out of the rain. It turned out to be something better; the gate. The locked gate. The four huddled against the rusted iron gate, a foreboding sense of wrongness settling through them and making them shiver worse than they already were. Dorian nearly slumped to the ground, but Fae's hand twitched, green light sparking and lighting the path beyond the gate just long enough to rouse her from the dull state she'd fallen in and shook herself, pulling at Dorian's collar as the two warriors manhandled the mage back to his feet. Fae tried to say something, but gave up, realizing she was only whispering, her throat too cold to work and she coughed, all but collapsing against the lock and staring at it, trying to get her mind to focus. Her hands fumbled with the picks up her sleeve and groaned as she nearly dropped them, but got one in the lock clumsily after a third try. Barely able to see and certainly unable to hear the lock, it took her several tries before she felt the click in her hands and exhaled.

She collapsed through the gate as it creaked open, falling hard to the ground with a pained grunt. Agony shot up her shins and the rogue grimaced, feeling more than seeing the three next to her. She heard distant voices and belatedly realized the water had somewhat stopped. The only thing she could see was the rain dripping from her hood and she brushed it back and looked up.

“We can't stop here,” Cassandra objected, but Dorian shook his head. “Look at her, Seeker,” he motioned to the limp rogue who only blinked blankly up at the thick canopy of vines threading through the rusted trellis above them. “We're all dead on our feet. I don't know about you, but I certainly could use a rest out of the rain about now.”

“It isn't safe here,” the warden grunted, moving to Fae's side and offering his arm, which she took gratefully and leaned against him guiltily. Used to the outdoors was one thing, but not even the Trevelyan's youngest wildchild could have successfully navigated the destructive tornado they'd found themselves in. “We can't...” she attempted, but her voice cracked and she shivered. The rogue blinked and straightened with a frown, staring off down the path. “What...?” Distantly, a mirage formed through the mist of a tall building; a mansion in the middle of nowhere? Wordlessly, Trevelyan pointed, drawing the two arguing companions attention and they turned to stare out beyond the trellis entryway. “Building,” Fae offered, cleverly. 

“We need to get inside so I can take a look at that leg of yours,” Dorian exhaled, coming up beside Fae as she leaned on her good foot. The rogue grimaced, but nodded. Their pace much better despite her ankle, they paused at the end of the path. Fae sighed at the distance to their destination and hoped the vaulted doors with cracked paint weren't locked. Fae and staggered toward it, back into the rain. Slivers of ice ran into her hood and the rogue ducked, but moved determinedly forwards, collapsing against the faded blue doors, clutching at the vines that drooped across the rusted lock and groaned, blanking out again when the door didn't budge. 

“Something isn't right,” Blackwall's deep voice echoed behind her, startling the rogue out of her daze and she looked up at him. Fae could only imagine what he looked like beneath his helmet and gave a half-snort. The Warden couldn't have looked any more like a bear if he'd tried, which he didn't. The other three looked at the man, then looked around carefully. The strange feeling intensified, but when nothing jumped out at the party, Fae shrugged with a sigh, then glanced at her companions. Fae was shocked the door was unlocked, though it was heavy enough all four of them had to push to get it to creak open, as if it was on rusted hinges.

“Well, considering the deluge outside, I'm not surprised,” Fae muttered, eyeing the clear rust patches on the inside of the door as the two warriors managed to get it shut. “I wonder if that happens often?” Blackwall only shrugged, pulling his helmet off and giving his head a shake after politely moving far enough away. Dorian gave an inelegant snort as steam rose off his robes and Cassandra just gave him a glare at the display, making the mage smirk. Fae gave a tired exhale and moved closer to the now-warm mage, trying not to pull off her 'puppy face' as he fondly called it. Dorian gave a snort and the rogue leaned against her closest companion with a sigh as her clothes warmed, too relieved at the warmth to feel guilty for not yelling at him for using up more mana.

“Come now,” he offered, tiredly. “Find a seat.” He nodded to what looked like a bench and shifted the canvas to reveal an ornate Orlesian padded seat. Fae slumped against it and immediately began coughing at the cloud of dust that poofed up around her. “Ugh...” The rogue shifted to move away, but Dorian shooed her back after giving a bit of ice magic to kill the dust. Despite being a Necromancer, the mage was able to push a bit of healing across her lower leg, soothing the bruise she'd no doubt have soon. Fae nodded to him in thanks, but didn't immediately rise. Cassandra had moved off a short ways, looking around warily as Blackwall simply leaned against the wall, his eyes half closed. 

“Where are we?” Dorian looked up at Cassandra, who only turned back to him with a frown and a shake of her head. “Orlesian architecture, clearly, but I've never seen any quite like this,” the Seeker responded, slowly turning in place. The vaulted ceiling disappeared into the darkness above, the painted beams worn in places where a chandelier had once hung. A single lit candle flickered eerily in its sconce across from them, illuminating a wide, curving marble staircase rising upwards. Obsidian cracks in the sky blue marble made the flooring look shattered and Fae could only stare at the mahogany wooden railing rising from the floor. Cobwebs tucked into corners and dust across everything, the place looked entirely uninviting to the bedraggled group, despite the cessation of the stinging rain.

“Dated earlier than the Blessed Age, that's for sure,” Blackwall offered. The other three looked at him curiously, but the warrior only shrugged, somewhat sheepishly. “Only seen older architecture once in the far south of Orlais,” he explained with a half-hearted shrug. “Somewhat looked like this?”

“Hopefully without all the dust in the air,” Dorian offered, delicately trying not to cough. Cassandra grunted in agreement. “We should find a place to wait out the rain,” she nodded towards the darker hallway beyond the stairs. Blackwall straightened with a grunt and Fae stood carefully, then nodded as her shin didn't hurt as badly. The three following the Seeker as best they could in the darkened hallway. The first door they came to was broken, but stuck in place and neither warrior were in any shape to shove past it. The further they moved into the darkness, however, the deeper the faint ominous pressure became until Fae stuttered to a halt with a shake of her head. 

“Back,” she panted with a shake of her head. She didn't suppress the shiver that ran across her body that the others didn't even bother to object. None of them were in any shape, though the last thing they wanted was to turn around. A light guttered into existence above Dorian's hand, giving them some semblance of vision and Fae started as a clear shadow moved across the edges of the light. The four waited for what felt like an eternity before Fae began to cough, letting out her breath after she realized she'd stopped.

“You need air, sweetheart,” Dorian offered, mildly, but she only groaned with a weak shake of her head. Taking in a shuddering breath, Fae moved closer and shook her head at the ominous statue that had startled the four of them. Set slightly into an alcove, the gargoyle mimicked its partner guardian across the hall. Stones set into the eyes winked in the flickering of Dorian's magelight, making them glow. No doubt the sudden light caused them to seem to jump, Fae groaned to herself and resolutely moved past the statues. Cassandra eyed them a moment longer before bringing up the rear and the party moved back into the main foyer. 

“If I were bedrooms, where would I be?” Fae muttered, looking over the doorways to other rooms before finally settling on the marble staircase that curled up and around the room to the distant balcony. “Not sure I'll be able to make it up that,” she grumbled. Dorian gave a tired chuckle.

“Well, I refuse to sleep on a bench,” he announced grandly and moved determinedly towards the marble stairs. Blackwall just scoffed and Cassandra rolled her eyes. Fae just snorted, but managed to follow the mage up the stairs. The wide balcony opened into a secondary foyer and three corridor into the rest of the manor. Several more alcoves with the eerie gargoyle statues lined the room, with arching pillars etched with intricate images. Fae felt along the first, finding deer, wolves, nugs, and several more creatures she'd never seen before. “Dorian,” she called, causing him to turn back. “Come here a moment. Look at these.” she asked with a tilt of her head. His eyebrow rose at the fantastic creatures. “Dragons, I get, but have you ever seen these?”

“There's a unicorn over here,” Cassandra snorted with a shake of her head. Fae grinned over at the closet-romantic, but didn't say a word at the glare she received in return, as if the Seeker knew what was on her mind. The rogue's grin only widened and she innocently returned back to the pillar in front of her with its story. Knotwork intertwined with swords and staves along the borders of each picture, the story unfolding as it twined around only to continue on the next pillar. “It's telling a story, but of what?” Dorian murmured, peering closely at what could have been a dragon, but for the feathers sprouting from every available surface. Fae shrugged.

“You're the researcher,” she smirked at her best friend, but Dorian only waved a hand at her. “Never have I seen creatures such as these, even in trash fiction someone leaves lying about,” he retorted with a raised eyebrow. Fae glared at him.

“You don't have to pick them up, you know,” she returned, evenly, but his smirk only widened. Finally, Blackwall cleared his throat and the mage and rogue reluctantly straightened. “We'll have to return to these to get a better picture of what I'm seeing,” Dorian spoke up, regretfully turning away as his magelight guttered slightly.

“Drop it, Dorian,” Fae held up a hand and rested it on his arm. “We'll manage.” The mage only gave a sigh and let it drop, but Fae knew his mana levels had to be dangerously low. In the newfound darkness, more shadows seemed to materialize from the walls, making Fae jump and growl at herself, but she stuck next to Dorian despite. Wary of rodents or other (larger) vermin, they passed plenty of broken furniture and torn tapestries depicting battle scenes, ocean landscapes and the occasional towering cityscape of unknown origin. The very absence of rats and nugs gave the group pause, but what else could they do? The rain could still be heard drumming daggers on the roof, though the further into the manse they moved, the less they could hear the torrential pounding.

Fae gave an exaggerated sigh of relief when she pushed open one of the nearby doors, only to find an empty, sheet-covered room. It looked in decent repair as the rogue peeked underneath the canvas covers, but didn't find a bed. The window rattled and she grimaced, backing out as the others began exploring other rooms. Most of them were unlocked, interestingly enough and finally, Dorian found one with an actual bed. He groaned theatrically after thoroughly checking it for vermin and collapsed across it. “I'm done,” he announced, making Fae let out a huff and Blackwall grunt. Unfortunately for the Warden, there was only the one bed, though it was relatively large enough for the two men. Cassandra rolled her eyes and moved to check the last few rooms. All but one were locked. “We're in luck, Inquisitor,” the Seeker called back. Interested, the rogue moved into the room Cassandra was in and nodded. A little pastel for the noblewoman's taste, but it was relatively clean and smelled faintly of lemons. “Odd.”

“So there are people here,” the rogue frowned slightly, looking around as if the servants would suddenly materialize, then gave a sigh when nothing happened on queue. “I wonder where they are.”

~*~

_He watched them from afar, pale silver eyes narrowed as their words slowly became recognizable the more he listened. It had been too long since anyone had spoken Trade tongue where he could hear, his own native tongue used in the quiet whispers of the night. Mildly curious about their 'guests', the shadow shifted out of sight as the humans inspected their rooms for the night, a faint smirk on his face as they found the two at the end of the hall. The smirk faded as a memory surfaced and he exhaled a breath. A larger shadow detached from the wall with a low rumble, too quiet for unaccustomed ears to hear, but he only shook his head._

_“Not tonight,” he spoke softly and the guardian gave a breath like a frustrated sigh, but stiffened back into immobility obediently. The tall figure continued to watch and listen, frowning when they seemed intent to wait out the storm and faintly shook his head, silver eyes darkening. They would not last the night without intervention. It seemed his job was not yet finished. The figure shifted closer, moving along the corridor behind the group on silent feet, out of sight and out of mind of the four tired humans. They were wary, but not aware enough of the danger they would soon find themselves in._

~*~


	2. The Ballroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorian Pavus' point of view; my attempt at one, rather. I don't feel I can do him justice, but I tried.

He woke with a start, the pull of the Fade faltering too quickly to fall back as his mind adjusted to wakefulness. Disgruntled at being woken so abruptly, the mage cast a glance over at his bedmate, who was still snoring loudly – and obliviously – and grunted in displeasure. Blackwall was little more than a brick – wall – and Dorian snorted at his too-early pun and shook his head. Idly curious what woke him, but the distant rattle of the window told him the rain was still falling strong and he slumped back into the bed with a graceful arm thrown across his face. _Thunder, probably,_ the mage thought to himself and let himself be lulled by the distant pounding.

Try as he might, however, he couldn't get back to sleep. Something lurked at the edges of his mind, a presence not unlike the spirits he often chatted with in his line of magic. He stared up at the tall ceiling, mentally tracing the rustic antlered chandelier hanging from half-broken moorings. Luckily, it wasn't directly above them, so if it did come crashing theatrically down, it would miss the bed by a good several feet. Not that it looked like it would, but...just in case. Dorian twisted in the bed with a sigh, briefly facing the doorway and closed his eyes. His senses pinged sharply and his eyes snapped open just in time to see a small shadow detach itself from the wall. The mage didn't move for a long time, watching the man-shaped creature he couldn't see from his vantage point as it slowly moved across the room. A few more steps and the shadow materialized into a young elven girl, no older than fourteen, in a black lacy nightshift, her long brunette curls falling down her back nearly to her knees pulled back with leather hairbands every few lengths to keep it contained. Her skin unusually pale in the near-darkness of the room, stick-thin limbs reaching for the sword settled against the mahogany dresser nearby.

Dorian shifted quietly to rest on an elbow, but the girl looked up in surprise, her mouth open in a silent 'oh!' and she shrank back, eyes wide as she stared at him through stormy eyes that seemed too old for such a fragile face. “I wouldn't advise that, little one,” the mage offered softly, hoping not to startle her further. They _were_ trespassing in someone else's home, after all. Hopefully, there wouldn't be too much of an issue? Dorian gave her a reassuring smile as she simply stood there, watching him unerringly. Her features looked human the more he looked at her, her large eyes nearly black in the darkness. Dorian sat up slowly and the young girl straightened, her head tilting to the side as she relaxed sheepishly, the corner of her mouth quirking slightly.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice lilting in a thick accent that had the mage too curious by far. It sounded more like his own than any Orlesian he'd ever heard and Dorian gave a quiet chuckle, sitting up further and dropping his feet off the side of the high bed. “Dorian of House Pavus,” he gave a nod to her and his smile widened when she relaxed. “I do hope we didn't intrude too badly?” he offered, apologetically. She shook her head as he continued. “What with the ocean outside, I'm afraid I can't swim in such weather.” The girl gave a quiet giggle, her hand flying up to her mouth to cover the sound.

“People don't come here often,” she whispered back, taking a step closer, weapons forgotten. Dorian gave a surprised chuckle, thinking back on how lost they'd been and how overgrown and hidden the place had been. “Surely not.” She shook her head again, but the smile slowly dropped as her eyes darted about the room, landing finally on the still-sleeping Blackwall on the other side of the bed. “You're not safe here, Dorian of House Pavus,” she said, formally, her thick accent clipping her words slightly, as if unused to speaking at all. _Strange,_ he thought.

“Not safe?” he repeated, his voice quieting as his magic ghosted out at her darting eyes, wary. Was it her that had woken him, or something else? The girl shook her head, her ears flicking downwards, though she moved closer, unafraid of him, at least. She turned, eyeing the sword, shield and staff leaning against the wall, then turned back to him and tilted her head. “You've not given me your name,” he offered, choosing to ignore her hesitation. Clearly, she hadn't forgotten the weapons they'd come in with, after all, though didn't seem startled or worried over the staff. Surely, she didn't think Blackwall was the mage, did she? Dorian snorted at the mental image that accompanied that thought, curious when she shook her head at his statement.

“Celestia,” she returned, though she didn't smile again. “You shouldn't be here,” she repeated, taking another step closer. Dorian sighed. “Why shouldn't we? I'm afraid we don't have anywhere else to go until the rain abates slightly.” The girl – Celestia, apparently – only shook her head again, more vehemently.

“You must,” she insisted. Suddenly, her eyes darted to the wall, then around the room and her hand moved back to her mouth. Instinctively, Dorian turned to look, but could only blink when he found nothing. Turning back, he started to find her gone and stood slowly, looking about the room. He'd not heard the door when she'd left and the mage frowned. There had been no sound, reminding him entirely too much like Cole's lack of movements to satisfy his curiosity. Surely not.

Before Dorian could collect his thoughts, a deep, heavy presence settled over the room. Frowning, he twisted around, but there was nothing in the pitch blackness of the room but himself. He should have been worried, but instead just moved back to the bed, the urge to return to sleep greater now that the girl was gone. He should have resisted, but there didn't seem any more reason to anymore. He wasn't sure what had woken him, now that he thought back on it. Dorian frowned briefly, but the pull of the Fade seemed brighter and he gave a mental shrug, settling back on his side of the bed.

~*~

Dorian woke the next morning to the shift in the bed as Blackwall shoved himself up. The warrior had slept in full armor, probably just as Cassandra had, which made sheets rather rumpled. The mage couldn't imagine how he'd managed, but gave up when Blackwall shook his shoulder. He grunted and burrowed further under the pillow, but the Warden only shoved him harder. “Do you mind? Some of us need beauty sleep more than others,” Dorian muttered into the mattress.

“The rain has abated slightly, Pavus,” Blackwall replied, moving to stretch before finding his shield and sword and strapping it on calmly.

“An entirely unholy hour of the day, no doubt,” was the reply, but a heavy knock on the door made him groan. He knew that knock. The Inquisitor liked to wake him up much too early to do things. Exploring, training, talking. Dorian heaved a sigh and rolled over, eyeing his staff still leaning against the dresser like it would provide answers to questions he should have had. Something...the mage shook his head to clear it of the Fade, no doubt, and sat up. Straightening his clothes, he found the dingy mirror in the other room and did the best he could with the supplies that had survived their 'swim' through the forest. Blackwall moved off to greet the women as he was while Dorian took his time with only a roll of his eyes at the other man. They'd either wait for him or not, he didn't really care. Not in the mornings, at least.

A little under an hour and Dorian found himself out in the hall. Fae wanted to explore the curiously abandoned manor, though Cassandra didn't think it a good idea. If there were servants around, they'd only bother them. Dorian frowned slightly as a faint memory occurred to him, but when the rogue raised an eyebrow at him, he only shook his head. “Nothing, for the moment, sweetheart,” he assured her with a twitch of his mustache. “Difficult to sleep when someone makes a perfect imitation of a hibernating bear.” Blackwall only glared at him and Cassandra let loose another one of her groans at his quip. Fae snorted with a shake of her head.

“You look perfect, as always, Dorian,” she responded, making his smirk grow wider and he gave her a bow in thanks. “Of course, but it's always nice to hear.” The rogue's laugh echoed slightly in the hall before she moved further down the corridor. It split into two smaller halls, the faded opulence only intensifying at the lack of life around them, vermin or other inhabitants. The manse didn't feel abandoned or empty and as the mage pulled from the Fade, his sight made the walls almost crawl. Startled, Dorian looked away, focusing on the three in front of him and only then realizing he'd slowed. He quickened his steps to catch up and dared look at the walls again, only to find them perfectly ordinary. The others didn't seem to feel anything, which as he was the only Fade-sensitive of the party, it made sense in hindsight. He had hoped Fae could sense something, but perhaps the Anchor was only attuned to rifts. For once, Dorian halfway wished Solas were here, then snorted at himself for the thought. As much as he enjoyed their theoretical magical banter, the faint otherness the bald elf wore around himself was grating. Dorian usually couldn't stand more than an hour before he began sniping at the elf. Granted, Solas sniped right back until Fae intervened irritably. Perhaps it was just as well.

The sense of something off was just enough that it kept Dorian on edge, his usual banter slightly less, though he caught the Inquisitor's concern more than once and made more of an attempt until she was laughing. He even managed to get a not-so-disgusted snort out of the Seeker at one point, which he took as a victory with a flourish. The manse was enormous, far larger than it had appeared on their arrival. “Granted, our first impression was little more than vine-encrusted, overblown Orlesian architecture that was more suited to Val Royeaux,” Dorian offered at one point. “All of this grand finery going to waste in the middle of nowhere. More the pity.” Cassandra seemed to nod, though her mind was more on should anything jump out at them, no doubt.

“I wonder where everyone is?” Fae murmured, turning yet another corner and running her gloved hand across the overly-dusty side-table along the side of the hall. The runner was too moth-eaten to provide a clue as to its colors, though a faint scrollwork pattern seemed to scroll across one edge. Fae cringed as a bit crumbled in her hand, but trailed above the knotwork. “This doesn't quite look like the Avvar designs we saw in the Frostbacks.”

“There's nothing else it could be,” Cassandra objected with a frown. “It's certainly not Dalish.”

“Not enough trees,” Dorian offered, making Fae snort in agreement. The party found a few balconies, but with the still-pouring rain, it wasn't advisable to attempt to see the courtyard just yet. Most of the doors they tried were unlocked, which nagged all four of them, as if whomever had left, hadn't closed up the place despite the front door and gate being locked tight. Everything was covered in several layers of dust, making inspections very noticeable, but Fae wasn't discouraged. Eventually, the four found what looked to be the kitchen and luckily was in much better repair than the rest of the house. Moving from the residential area, Fae and Cassandra looked in the pantry, surprised to find some non-perishable goods still edible. Blackwall moved to the outer door and found a covered greenhouse with some small shoots still alive, though wild cress was everywhere. “Looks like the rain is more normal for this area,” Blackwall offered with a grunt, nodding to the shallow pond and sound of bullfrogs at the far end of the overgrown garden. A small spring had once been ornate, but was now simply pooling from the rain coming in a broken window. Fae narrowed her eyes, then swiftly unstrung her bow as she moved into the garden. Dorian heard the twang of the Inquisitor's bow and Blackwall's low whistle of appreciation. “Well, it's more than we had,” Dorian offered cheerfully from his spot when the Warden moved back inside, dripping a little but holding up the dead duck and Fae slipped back inside with a smile. “We got lucky they were out there,” the Inquisitor responded with a shrug and returning the arrow to her quiver as Blackwall began gutting the bird.

Cassandra inspected the fireplace, then looked over at Dorian. “Get the fire going, Dorian, would you?” she asked and the mage nodded, stepping carefully around a broken stool and shooting a quick fireball after the Seeker dropped an armload of wood from the pantry into the fireplace. With a shrug, Dorian gathered the stool legs and tossed them in as well, sending sparks up the chimney. “Surprised the flue isn't blocked,” the mage muttered, watching the smoke filter up the chimney without an issue. Cassandra only nodded with a sigh.

In short order, they had a good-sized pot of stew and the last of their rations, the majority of their food supplies had been washed away in the last river they'd crossed. The unexpected downpour had apparently caught too much flotsam and the panic of all four horses as something had startled them in the middle of the water an unfortunate event all around. Dorian frowned as he thought back on their adventure into the unknown.

 _Something drove us here,_ he thought, only looking up at the startled sound the Inquisitor made and realized he'd said it out loud. “Explain?” Dorian shook his head, straightening slightly and returning his glare back to the bowl of duck stew Blackwall had managed. “The rain is unexpected for us, but seems perfectly normal for this area,” the mage spoke slowly, his thoughts forming as he spoke them aloud. “The locked gate, discouraging visitors, but who in their right mind would ever find this place?”

“It's not on any map we have of the area,” Cassandra nodded, fishing out said map. It showed the Inquisition camps in the area, but there was nowhere that could have been where they currently were. Her finger jabbed at the corner. “This is the best I can figure where we last were.” She gave a grunt as the finger trailed off the map and Fae frowned. “Scouts reported nothing in the area east of the camps but forest. This manse shouldn't be here.”

“Abandoned and dusty, but the kitchen looks lived in,” Blackwall put in his thoughts with a slow nod.

“Fairly certain we won't be able to find our way back either,” Fae growled, staring at the map as if it would give her the answers she needed. “We need to get back to the camps, but I couldn't see enough to actually track our path here.” Dorian offered her an encouraging smile.

“If anyone can find our way back, it's our dear Inquisitor,” he chuckled, holding out his hands. “You've pulled us out of worse places, sweetheart.” Fae only grimaced slightly, but eventually nodded. “We'd be lost without you.”

“You are lost with me, Dorian,” she muttered, but relented as Blackwall gave her a bowl, nodding to him in thanks. “At least we're not in a cave, I suppose. I'd hate to worry about you on top of the forest.” Dorian gave her a horrified look at the concept of him trapped in a cave by the rain and she snorted a laugh. “Perish the thought!”

“Forest not up to your standards?” Blackwall snorted and Dorian turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “It's not the forest that's the problem, but the less than stellar company I have to deal with. At least the spirits I keep are civil.” Cassandra made a face at the mention of his magical specification, but said nothing as Fae only rolled her eyes at the quip.

“Blackwall,” Fae waited until he turned towards her, then deadpanned, “Just leaf him alone.” Both warriors groaned and Cassandra muttered, “Don't encourage her, please,” as Dorian snorted into his stew, then quipped, “That's the spirit, Inquisitor! But lets not drive them up a tree, shall we?” Fae gigglesnorted until she began coughing, waving the Seeker's attention away until she managed to get a handle on herself again. “Dorian, I hate you.” The mage in question only waggled his eyebrows in return, smirk on his face.

“That doesn't answer the question of what's going on in here, however,” Cassandra returned to the problem at hand. “Until we can get through the rain, we're trapped here.”

“If something's actively working to keep us trapped,” Blackwall frowned, looking around. “We need to find the center of said spell, won't we?” Cassandra and Fae nodded with a frown.

“Last night...” she trailed off slightly, looking down at her stew...no, at her hand. Dorian didn't think that was a good sign. Maybe she had felt something after all. “The Anchor was sending pins and needles up my arm, but it's not fizzing as if a rift were nearby.” She looked up at the three as Cassandra's face immediately morphed into a worried frown. “It doesn't hurt, actually. Which is...strange. Just....tingly.” She looked up at Dorian with a shrug, then paused at the apparent look on his face. “Dorian?”

At first, he only shook his head, but then exhaled. “Something...woke me up last night, but I... can't recall what,” he finally spoke up. It seemed ridiculous now, being unable to remember what had happened. Like a Fade dream, but too insubstantial. “I just have this feeling. Blackwall said something's off and I, for once, agree with the man.” The mage shook his head at the warrior's obvious surprise and pouted. “Despite what you may think of me, Blackwall, I'm not an idiot. I can sense things the rest of you cannot. They are just as real as you and I, just less cause for alarm.” He looked around a moment and caught the others glances with a faint twitch of his lips.

“But nothing's here,” Fae returned, finally setting down her bowl. “That we can find,” Dorian added with a slight nod. Fae frowned at him, but only sighed and shook her head eventually. “Ok, so say there's something here.” The rogue sighed, resting her elbows on the table. “We'll need to find it. I imagine most hidden places are below, yes? Or in the walls.” Dorian felt a sense of pressure at those words, but it faded too quickly for him to catch it.

“Maybe a locked-away tower, we'll find a pretty prince in distress,” Dorian quipped, smirking at Cassandra's glare. “Seeker, anything's possible.” She just grunted with an eye roll and stood. “We should stick together, then,” the Seeker retorted. “The more I'm here, the less I like this place.” The other three nodded in agreement and finished the stew. Putting the rest away for later, they gathered their weapons and continued the exploration of the echoing hallways.

A little while later, all they'd found was a dusty ballroom with broken furniture and the raise musician dais that looked as if someone had once shattered glass against the far wall. “What a waste of perfectly good wine,” Dorian muttered, catching the scent of elderberries as he inspected the stains in the wood. “Inquisitor, take a look at this,” Blackwall called from a little ways off. His frown as he inspected the vaulted mosaic windows was more wary than curious, causing Dorian to look up as the rogue moved over. Cassandra was inspecting the broken furniture, finding several shattered instruments in the wreckage, but she dropped those to move over as well. Blackwall nodded at what looked like ash stains on the walls between the windows. “No damage to the windows, but there's been a fire in here. Stains on the walls, the flooring -”

“The wrecked furniture implies wanton destruction, not a fire,” Cassandra interrupted with a shake of her head. She frowned, however at the strange stains on the walls. “They look...almost human...” Fae frowned, her eyes widening at the implication. “A battle, maybe?”

“Hopefully, not a massacre,” Dorian offered, blandly. Unexpectedly, his sight tilted back into the Fade and the walls crawled, causing him to shake his head violently as pain lanced through his skull. He opened his eyes to find himself flat on his back with Fae leaning over him worried. “Dorian! Are you all right? You collapsed!” The mage shook his head, then grimaced and thought better of the idea as the rogue slowly helped him up.

“I...do believe I'll stop attempting to see into the Fade for now,” he griped. “The walls...crawl as if they're...alive.” Cassandra's eyes widened and she looked around, glaring at the walls in question as if daring them to crawl. “I've never heard of magic that can do that.” 

“Nor I, Seeker,” the mage retorted, “Smite only drains a mage's mana pool, not twists it around. It's...dizzying.” Fae shook her head, worried and helped Dorian stand. “I'm fine, Inquisitor.” she still watched him, but finally nodded. Exhaling, Fae released his arm and Dorian straightened, looking around warily. Something twitched past the edges of his vision, but when he looked, nothing had shifted. The others didn't seem as on edge, but they were slowly getting there with every word he told them. Every so often, it felt like his vision shifted, but Dorian kept himself out of the Fade with a frown. He felt pulled towards it and shook his head to clear the fuzziness, catching a similar shake from the rogue as she looked down at her hand, then back at him. He gave a faint nod and she straightened.

“We should head elsewhere,” Fae decided, the other two looked up at her. “This room is giving me the willies. Thanks, Dorian.” He gave her a bland smile, but a sinking feeling made him certain it hadn't been his words that had made the Anchor fizzle.

~*~

_The tall figure gave a small sigh as he watched the four in the kitchen. They were blatantly ignoring the warnings he was offering, too occupied with the 'dangerous' weather without they were avoiding the danger around them. This place would eat them alive. Of the two women, one was clearly in charge. The 'Inquisitor' they called her and the figure frowned. He recognized the title, but not the woman who now bore it. He was the first to admit, however, that his own experience was quite limited. Studying her closely, he shook his head faintly. She didn't seem commanding like the taller woman, yet something about her remained in his mind. She was pretty for a human, curvy figure, tanned skin, short-cropped blond hair and a heart-shaped face. A faint smile crossed his face briefly at the look in her eyes as the taller of the two males teased her about some blushing blond that was apparently hers. The older woman was clearly more interested in her duty and protection of the Inquisitor as was the bearded one who held many secrets. The fourth of their party, however...he paused, watching the gray-eyed mage with appreciation. He carried himself like he knew how handsome he was, much to the disgust of two of their party. Silver eyes followed the mage's elegant movements as he motioned in the air, describing the etched pillars the pair of them had discovered. The man was closer in his observations than he realized, the silver-eyed figure smirked. Such creatures existed, just not on Thedas as they knew it._

_He wouldn't mind sharing his world with the gray-eyed mage._


	3. Celestia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be posting the different perspectives of the current party, but once that's done, will be focusing on Dorian and Xander. I doubt I'll have much in the way of info and whatnot for people not my own. I'm not well-versed in using canon characters. I think it rather shows I roleplay too much and it's difficult to get back into the habit of writing solely myself.
> 
> Blackwall's point of view this time.

By mid-afternoon, they'd found little more in the way of creepy crawlies in the mansion, enough to settle them for a time, but as the weather still held strong outside, there was nothing more they could do beyond stare out the windows and pray. The Inquisitor had found a nearby balcony that was relatively protected enough from the heavy rain to watch with a little sulk and Cassandra settled nearby, on guard. Dorian, for his part, explored the other hallway from Blackwall, who was grateful for the quiet. The Tevinter, though quiet, was still entirely too talkative for his tastes. The talk of crawling walls made his skin crawl, though the warrior was grateful he'd seen nothing like the mage had described. Walls are meant to be motionless, magic shouldn't fuck with them. He disliked magic as a rule, however, so it was just his opinion pulling through. The warrior narrowed his eyes as he peered down a hall, watching the faint light from a shuttered window play along the floor before turning away. Then he paused. Light didn't crawl on its own. _What the bloody..?_ Blackwall turned back, but the light was gone. Completely.

His frown deepened and he clutched the hilt of his sword, looking around to try and find the window. Shuttered like it should be. Cautiously, the bearded warrior moved closer, belatedly realizing he was getting further away from the others, but he sincerely hoped it was just his imagination acting up with the stories the altus had been telling. Something tugged him closer and he paused, eyeing the hallway before moving further, coming to a stop next to the window. It rattled slightly from the rain and Blackwall placed a hand on it, arresting the sound, letting the cool of the weather filter through his gauntlet until he could relax. Nothing was wrong. The mansion was just too quiet for his tastes.

“You look different than he does,” a quiet voice from behind him caused the warrior to whirl, the shriek of his sword clearing its scabbard loud in the silence. A young elven girl stood behind him in a simple black dress embroidered with wildflowers along the bottom. The lacy sleeves drifted freely as she only cocked her head at the startled warrior curiously, completely unaffected by the sword leveled in her direction. Blackwall coughed and immediately lowered his blade apologetically, dipping his head. “Forgive me, milady,” he cleared his throat. “I did not hear you come up.”

That seemed to amuse her and her stormy eyes sparkled, a smile blossoming on her face as if he'd said something funny. “Do you live here?” he asked kindly. Surely, she wasn't the only one living in the vast mansion on her own? The warrior's brow drew down as she gave a nod.

“You don't...you're not safe here,” she offered, moving closer, curious, but strangely unafraid of the large, armored warrior. Blackwall was grateful for that, at least, and nodded slightly at her earlier question. “You've...met Dorian?” he asked with a frown. Maker knew what she thought of them now with _that_ introduction. The girl's hand moved up to cover her mouth as she giggled slightly. “Funny, he...never mentioned it.” Blackwall straightened and cleared his throat. “When did the two of you meet? We haven't been here that long.”

She shook her head with a smile and moved closer, until she was looking directly up at him. Her long ears peeked from curly brown hair that the warrior realized with a start reached down to her back. Clearly, she was well cared for with hair like that. Her stormy blue eyes looked up at him fearlessly and she raised a hand to touch his beard. Startled, Blackwall raised his free hand to touch her hand, then chuckled at the curiosity in her voice. “What is that?” she asked. He chuckled again. “That, milady, is a beard. Many human males have such, though I've been told mine's rather unique,” he answered with a smile. He tilted his eyes at the faint trail of shadow behind her, nearly losing his smile, but she saw it and turned with a frown of her own.

“There's nothing here now,” she offered, turning back, though she looked worried all of a sudden. “But it's not safe for you! You must leave!” Blackwall frowned and the girl took his hand and tugged him down the hall, back the way he'd come. Blackwall let her lead him back to the rooms they'd appropriated and Cassandra frowned as she and Fae moved back inside at his heavy step. “Who is that?” the Seeker demanded, but Blackwall could only shrug helplessly, surprised the elven girl hadn't let go of his hand. She seemed wary of the Seeker, however, and Blackwall shook his head. “Lady Cassandra, she's just a girl. The child of whomever lives here, I imagine?”

“But who -”

“My name is Celestia Xandarius,” the elven girl frowned, stiffening her posture at Lady Cassandra's tone. “I do happen to live here with my father. You are not safe here and must leave immediately.” Dorian had moved in from the shared room, but paused at the glare the girl shot him. “You ignored me, Dorian of House Pavus.” The Tevinter frowned and shook his head.

“You never gave me a chance to explain to the others here of our...meeting,” he protested. The Inquisitor shot her friend a look, but he didn't look over at her, focusing instead on the elven girl. “Your name sounds Tevinter, Lady Celestia.” The girl shook her head.

“I am not of the north, Dorian,” she retorted. “I have lived here all my life.” she grew increasingly frustrated when the four didn't seem alarmed and Fae stepped forwards with a smile.

“Lady Celestia, please. We are not ignoring your warning, but if you notice the outside, we cannot leave in such a storm. There is no option for us but to remain,” the Inquisitor attempted, but Celestia only shook her head.

“You _must_ ,” she repeated with a sigh.

“Why are you so insistent we leave?” Dorian attempted, taking a small step closer, pausing in surprise when the girl immediately moved away from him, pulling herself against Blackwall, whom she'd still not relinquished his hand. Lady Cassandra and Fae shared a look, but Blackwall could only shrug. He was hardly the least dangerous of the four of them; usually the Inquisitor had children running to her side, not him. “I will hardly hurt a child,” the mage retorted, offended, but Celestia turned her attention to the two women.

“Things...” she trailed off, suddenly looking nervously down at the floor. “I...can't tell you. I'm sorry!” she looked up, imploring them to believe her. “Father doesn't...like me to talk to...people who are pulled here.”

“So it _is_ a compulsion,” Dorian sounded entirely too smug and Lady Cassandra shot him a glare that he promptly ignored. The girl looked over at him, but nodded. “It's part of the-” her words were cut off by a thunderous _BANG_ down the hall, causing all five of them to jump. “I...!” Celestia shook her head and finally let go of Blackwall, turning back towards the hall. The warrior immediately followed, trying to catch her arm as she turned tail and ran. “I'm sorry! I have to go!” She turned the corner and was gone before Blackwall rounded it himself. He frowned and paused, looking back towards the others with a shake of his head. He exhaled and straightened. “She's gone.”

“That's a long hallway, Blackwall,” Lady Cassandra objected, coming up to a stop beside him and glaring down the empty hallway. Blackwall could only hold up a hand towards the air with a shrug. Dorian frowned and the warrior caught the Inquisitor glaring at him. Slowly, they made their way back to the women's borrowed room.

“She knew you, Dorian,” she frowned. The Tevinter finally looked over at her sheepishly, automatically fiddling with his robes in an unconscious nervous gesture. “Explain.”

“She...found her way into our bedroom the other night,” the mage sighed. “She seemed more curious about the Warden than anything, really. Suppose she likes you?” he grumped, but only shook his head. “She didn't give me any more reason than she has now as to why it's apparently so dangerous for us four to be here and disappeared the same way. I saw no door move but she was just – poof – gone.”

Blackwall grunted, but gave a shrug. “She didn't seem afraid of me at all,” he mused. Lady Cassandra nodded, shooting a considering look at Dorian, who looked back at the Seeker innocently. “I cannot imagine what you're thinking, Seeker, but I assure you, I haven't done whatever you assume I might have.” The Inquisitor, for her part, only shook her head.

“Unfortunately for us, we _can't_ leave,” she responded with a sigh, then turned back to the room her and the Lady Seeker shared. Blackwall gave a shrug, shooting Dorian a glance as the man followed after a moment. “I hope Cullen isn't too worried,” Inquisitor Trevelyan muttered, but it only made Dorian snort and she shot him a glare.

“We've only been missing for for 48 hours,” the Tevinter responded, blandly. Blackwall shook his head with a frustrated sigh. He was worried about the others as well, not just their Commander. The Ambassador would be worried sick over all four of them. He knew they had to get the Inquisitor back to Skyhold. As Faelin and Dorian started bickering again, Cassandra and Blackwall shared a look.

“We might think about braving the rain, Lady Cassandra,” Blackwall offered quietly. He caught the Inquisitor shot them a look, but only retorted to some inane thing the Tevinter was pouting about. He shifted slightly, giving a sigh as his armor resettled more comfortably. The soft clank was dull and he grimaced; his armor would need a harsh cleaning after the rain, that's for sure. The Seeker gave a grunt, but didn't disagree. “I'm not so sure. I don't know where that girl came from. If she lives here, where is everyone else?” Lady Cassandra frowned. She leaned against the door, letting it creak open slightly as she stared down the empty hall. The fading light from the waning sun crept across the carpet like a distant omen, making the Seeker narrow her eyes further and pinch the bridge of her nose. “We can't stay here, but we can't leave!” she growled. Blackwall could only nod and lean against the wall, watching the Inquisitor helplessly.

“Blackwall,” came her voice and the man immediately straightened, giving the Inquisitor a nod. She still looked too tired and he worried. She gave him a small smile. “I need you and Dorian to keep an eye out for the girl, Celestia. If we can find her again, maybe we can get her to explain further. Her father is around here somewhere and I'm not sure I like that he's not introduced himself.” Fae shook her head.

“If he's truly the lord of the manor, it's downright rude,” Dorian quipped, earning a light shove from the rogue next to him. He only smoothed his mustache with his smirk. Seeing the smirk, Faelin rolled her eyes, but leaned against the mage and he curled an arm around her until she relaxed slightly.


	4. Wraiths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe I have come to the conclusion I cannot see Cassandra's point of view very well. If it's stilted, I apologize.

_We should have attempted the rain,_ Cassandra growled to herself, staring out the window and rolling her eyes at the umpteenth joke Dorian spoke up as the pair behind her continued to banter back and forth. She was in no mood to join in – though she rarely did anyway. Blackwall had the right of it, having stayed in the room he and the mage shared early on. They were apparently 'safe' from the manor's dangers during the day, though what that entailed, none of them knew. The Seeker was debating on trying to find the girl again. The manor wasn't too large and the girl couldn't remain hidden from them forever. Or perhaps they'd find the elusive father. She could only hope so and pray the Maker would give them a little hint so they could get _out of here._ Cassandra was beginning to think a few minutes was too long in this manor.

Not to mention the knowledge that they'd been _pulled_ here, after all. Cassandra dealt with magic only if she had to and even the Breach was too much. They needed to return as soon as possible. All this sitting around and blighted waiting was grating. With a huff, the woman stood and moved to the door, debating about moving into the hallway, then thought better of it when the Inquisitor stood as if to follow. “Cassandra?” Fae's voice tilted upwards in worry, but the Seeker only shook her head. “Nothing important, Inquisitor,” she responded immediately. “Just restless.”

“Excess of energy, Seeker?” Dorian chortled as if from a private joke and Cassandra grunted at him. “You're jokes are not funny, mage.” Dorian was unperturbed by her abruptness as always. Fae snorted. “It's wearing on all of us to be so inactive. I want to be _doing something._ ” She nodded and Cassandra let out a sigh.

~*~

The party ended up wandering the manor again on the third day. Finding the kitchen had become routine, but the other rooms were a mystery to the four. The ballroom was avoided after an decorative vase was found smashed on the floor by the entryway that hadn't been there the first time. The air was definitely heavier there, as well as a few other places they'd found. He theorized the spirits that he felt were congregating in such areas and Cassandra promptly declared them to be avoided. When the others didn't object, she relaxed enough and moved on.

They found plenty more of the eerie gargoyle statues with the gemstone eyes and Fae swore aloud at one point she felt as if she was being watched.

“You're the Inquisitor, sweetheart,” Dorian returned and she shot him a glare, knowing what he was going to say. “You _are_ always being watched.”

“Dorian, I hate you.” He only smirked at her. 

Cassandra gave an annoyed huff. “We shouldn't be making light of this,” she snapped. Fae shook her head. “We're not,” she assured the Seeker. “You know Dorian and I crack jokes to ease the tension, Cassandra.” The Seeker relented, but moved off ahead.

“It isn't all bad,” the mage continued irrepressibly. “We've got this lovely manse to ourselves!”

“Dorian!” Fae gave a mock growl, but it only made the mage laugh. “Now something is going to– !” _BANG_

The silence that followed the sound could have birthed kittens as the four looked to one another, Fae's eyes slightly wider than normal and Dorian's expression was a mix of guilt and surprise. Cassandra would have been amused if she wasn't more worried about just what had made the explosive sound. The Seeker pulled her sword and moved down the hall, heading slowly for the origin of the sound, Blackwall pulled his shield and eyed behind them, immediately bringing up the rear as Dorian and Fae loosened their staff and bow.

“Fate can stop toying with us now,” the mage muttered, but Cassandra didn't turn around. Her eyes narrowed on the next hallway as it forked in opposite directions. “Inquisitor?” she glanced back. 

“I hope you aren't suggesting we split up, Seeker,” came the mage's voice, but Cassandra immediately shook her head shortly. “Of course not,” she snapped. “I want to investigate whatever made that sound,” Cassandra continued. “Whatever it was, interrupted the girl last night. We need to get to the bottom of this blighted mansion.”

“Stairs usually help,” Dorian retorted, but quietly. Blackwall grunted, causing the three to turn. “What was that?” he asked, eyes narrowing off towards the right. Cassandra turned that direction, just in time to see a shadow flicker behind her. She gave a hiss and both warriors raised their shields as a barrier flickered across the four of them. The faint stretch of Fae's bowstring was the only thing heard in the silence that followed and the Seeker slowly straightened in disgust. “False alar–”

With hollow screams, red-shaded wraiths converged on them, erupting from the walls and clutching at the four with clawed hands. Cassandra's eyes narrowed as her sword appeared to swing right through the strange wraiths, but then one shrieked and staggered back from a solid hit of Blackwall's shield. A volley of lightning coursed through the wraith and it twisted, the shriek causing Fae to clutch her ears with a wince, but she fired a shot at the other wraith that was trying to tear at Dorian's robe. More wraiths emerged from the walls and seemed strangely focused on the mage, earning Dorian several bloody clawmarks. An arrow pulsed through the chest of one, knocking it back into Cassandra's blade. A blast of ice briefly encased another shortly before Blackwall twisted and shattered it, sending shards skittering across the floor. They melted quickly, leaving dangerously slick puddles on the floor that slowly soaked into the ruined carpet.

“Dorian! Behind you!” Fae's voice caused Cassandra to whirl, just in time to see Dorian get slammed into the wall and the fireball went wide, splashing into the wall and igniting the tapestry. Nothing else caught and the burned artpiece crashed to the floor, leaving a lul in the fighting briefly. Fae was at Dorian's side as the mage staggered up with a shake of his head and a muttered, 'I'm fine, sweetheart.' Slowly, the Inquisitor nodded, but looked up at Cassandra. “We've got to get back to the rooms,” she spoke up and the Seeker nodded in agreement.

Blackwall began edging backwards, leading the way as more wraiths lunged at the warrior. Claws scored her pauldon and she twisted, knocking the red-tinged arm aside before it did any more damage. For every wraith that fell, another took its place. “There's no end to them!” Blackwall growled, shoving a wraith off his shield and it went down with a shriek and Dorian's sharpened end of his staff in its midsection. The mage twisted his staff and shot off another volley of chain lightening, lighting up several wraiths and giving them a breather.

“What are they doing?” Dorian whispered, noticing the last few wraiths hadn't immediately joined in the battle. “Waiting...but for what?” Fae, next to him, shook her head, feather shaft pressed against her cheek as she aimed warily, but didn't let it fly.

“Requiscere desi ellas!” A deep voice shattered the pregnant silence and the wraiths just...disappeared. The four shot around, trying to find the source of the unknown voice, but there was no one left in the hall but them.

“Well, that was entertaining,” Dorian straightened with a wince and Cassandra shot him a glare at his flippancy. “Anyone recognize that?” one by one, they shook their heads and the mage sighed. “Sounded Tevene, but,” he held up a hand as Fae frowned, “that was no words I recognized. Ancient Tevene, possibly, though that doesn't sound quite right, either.” Reluctantly, the mage shrugged and the Inquisitor gave a huff.

Cassandra straightened warily. “We should head back,” she stated with her habitual frown. “I'd rather not have to deal with any more of those things.” The other three agreed, though Dorian looked more thoughtful as Fae worried over the bloody stains in his robe, encouraging him to heal what little he could.

~*~

An hour later and Fae was all but wringing her hands. Dorian had apparently wandered off a good while ago, but Blackwall hadn't seen him, though Cassandra could see the effort the Inquisitor was going through to avoid yelling at the poor Warden. “I can't believe him!” Fae had been pacing the last twenty minutes as Cassandra blatantly refused to allow the three of them to go look for the mage. “Why the fuck would he just....wander off?” Blackwall only looked guilty, but at only when the Inquisitor couldn't see. Cassandra could only shake her head.

“He'll be fine, Inquisitor,” she reassured Fae from her spot on the bed. She was checking over the straps in her armor where a lucky swipe had scored it. “Trust him. He'll turn up when we least expect it.” Fae managed a snort, but only continued pacing. Her pacing stopped abruptly when Blackwall straightened and his sword cleared its sheath. Instantly, Cassandra's had too and they all three stared at the door. The faint sound of something coming and Fae was out the door with a gasp. “Dorian!” 

Cassandra cleared the door, but paused in surprise at the sight of a disheveled and bloody mage being held by an shockingly tall figure.


	5. The Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have lost my private point of view and probably will not do so again, so the first five chapters are unique. It was more difficult than I'd realized and to continue the story, I'll simply be the 'omnipotent, hovering presence' ^,..,^ As always, I have no beta, so any typos or issues you find are mine alone. Also, I'm all caught up to where I'm at, so posting will be much slower from now on.
> 
> Please, give me kudos and feedback if you like it or even if you don't! I'd love to hear what you think as I've never posted any fanfic before.

“Who..?”

“What happened?”

“Maker's breath! Dorian!” The last was Fae herself as she instantly moved up to the tall man. Cassandra, for her part, narrowed her eyes at the pale figure who ignored all three of them completely and only moved into the room to set the groggy mage on the bed.

“Inquisitor,” his voice was deep with an eerie echo that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest. His silver eyes watched the trio as he straightened and turned slightly, flicking over Blackwall, lingering on Cassandra and her unsheathed sword, then finally rested on Faelin herself, who was standing right next to him.

“What happened?” She repeated Blackwall's exclamation, looking between Dorian and this unknown...was he a lord – perhaps _the_ lord of the manor?

“He encountered the dangers of the manor,” the man replied, blandly, as if that explained everything. The sheer lack of emotion caused the rogue to look up at him sharply, though he hadn't moved an inch. She opened her mouth to speak, but he made a sharp movement and she paused. “The ones you've encountered already are the less powerful of those that reside within these halls.” Fae shook her head and finally moved to the other side of the bed.

“Just what kind of wraiths are they?” Cassandra demanded. She didn't move any closer and didn't relax her stance, her eyes tracking the man. Slowly, his head turned from watching the Inquisitor to face the angry woman, though the lack of any other movement made Blackwall shift warily. Dorian groaned and Fae leaned against the bed, clearing her throat slightly. The man still hadn't moved beyond turning his head towards Cassandra, but his long, pointed ears flicked at the sound. He exhaled slowly and returned his attention towards her, dismissing the two warriors entirely.

“He was ambushed, clearly,” he answered her with a raised eyebrow. “The...wraiths...are attracted to magic.”

“Are you usually this opaque or are you intent on simply frustrating us?” Cassandra snapped and Fae sighed with a quiet 'Cassandra' that did nothing to quell the glare the older woman shot the man.

“You have not introduced yourself, sir,” Blackwall put in, carefully. “We are aware we are intruding, but there is–”

“What part of 'you are not safe' do you humans not understand?” he interrupted with narrowed eyes. His eyes flickered dark for a brief moment but Fae was more intent on Dorian, who was groggily coming to and wincing as bruises and cuts announced themselves. “Do you have any potions for him? You...” Fae looked up at the man. “You did help him, did you not?”

The man grunted, but only gave a sharp nod. “I am the only one in the manor that will consent to speak with you,” he offered cryptically, but sighed. Cassandra gave an actual growl, but he didn't seem worried in the slightest. Quite the opposite, in fact, he seemed rather amused by the frustrated Seeker and the distrustful Warden. “You can leave, despite the rain, and you will. There is no other option. The wraiths will continue to attack you until you die. I cannot stop them if you insist on wandering the manor at night.” He turned to level a dark-eyed glare at Dorian, who winced as Fae had begun checking his wounds. Clawmarks they recognized, but the raw bite marks were new and Blackwall moved closer, offering the last two elfroot potions they did have.

“Why can't you explain what's happening?” Fae finally looked up at him with a frown. “You and... I assume, your daughter? have continued to only tell us 'it isn't safe' like we're errant children who've gotten into the stables with the wild horses.” Cassandra snorted at the metaphor, but Dorian let out a breath, grimacing as he downed both vials. The regeneration potion was working slowly and the mage was downright lucky nothing was broken or massively torn. There was nothing they could do about the broken buckles and torn robes. Dorian picked at a bloody tear and sighed, earning Fae's look of fond exasperation. 

“I cannot–”

“Why _can't_ you, Father?” a new voice came from the open door. The odd group turned and Blackwall straightened. Seeing both strange elves, it was obvious they were related. Their features, however, were still too human to be full elf, making Fae both curious and uneasy. The girl, at least, looked, well, normal, but her father had a touch of something she couldn't quite place. The rogue looked down at Dorian and he caught her eye, but only looked back at the tall elf curiously and tried to sit up when Celestia entered. 

The still-unnamed man shook his head slightly, turning towards the girl as she moved quickly to his side and he placed an arm around her. “Father, please,” she looked up as she hugged him tightly. “They deserve to know, to understand what they've stumbled across.” The tall man gave a sigh and Fae could have sworn his eyes lightened from their stormy gray to a burnished silver as he nodded.

“My name,” he paused to give the Seeker a faint smirk, “is Xander. My kind do not belong here, though I appear as an unusually tall elf to you.”

“Xander Xandarius?” Dorian's snort interrupted whatever Fae had been about to say and she paused, then snorted herself as Xander shook his head in exasperation. 

“Aedan Xandarius, if you insist,” he retorted. “I have gone by Xander far longer than you've been alive, human.” The girl giggled, covering her mouth with a hand at Fae's surprised expression.

“Then what are you?” Blackwall stiffened as Cassandra narrowed her eyes, both of their hands on the hilts of their swords.

“To us, we are simply The People, or Lahmir, in our tongue,” Xander gave a slight nod to the Warden. “We are from a part of the Fade even mages have never been.”

“You're....demons!” Cassandra exclaimed, but Fae shook her head slightly as Celestia stopped giggling and glared at the woman. “I have a human mother!” the girl snapped, straightening as Xander gave a low growl. Cassandra looked startled and watched the girl. 

“Do you label everything you do not understand a demon, then?” Xander returned, evenly.

“The wraiths we fought–”

“Are a part of the Curse that traps my people in this manor,” Xander interrupted smoothly, a warning growl returning to his voice and Fae stiffened, then cleared her throat with a pointed look at the Seeker, who finally just shut her mouth into a thin, disapproving line.

“The ones that attacked me were not very wraith-like,” Dorian offered, in the silence that followed. Xander gave a small sigh, but nodded.

“The Curse has mutated and altered many of us. A long time ago, there were three mages that found this place. Abandoned as it is now, though I can hardly assume to know why,” the Lahmir shifted slightly to lean against the nearby dresser, Celestia still attached to his side with her arms around his waist. “From what I recall, the three were on a vendetta against some noble of the time. They tore open the Veil to the Fade, but the protections they placed around the room kept the spirits from being torn in half and pulled through in the grotesque manifestations of your emotional states as you see them.”

Dorian looked thoughtful, nodding slowly as Cassandra narrowed her eyes. Surprisingly, she didn't speak, but Fae did. “How? I didn't think it was possible to tear the Veil!” Xander shook his head with a raised eyebrow. 

“You hold, upon your hand, the very power of the Veil itself. You can close such tears and yet you cannot believe a mage is capable?” he asked, incredulously. “What sort of power do you think gave you that mark?” Fae frowned and shook her head.

“I don't know. There are no mages that are _that_ knowledgeable in the Fade to fully understand it. It had to have taken several mages and many sacrifices, just like the magisters of old,” the rogue frowned. Xander's eyebrow remained upright and he briefly glanced at Dorian, but only continued relating his story.

“It took three of them,” he responded, flatly. “A ritual years in the planning and the sacrifice of many of my own as they were pulled through. Many of them died upon entering your world, the sheer shock of change too much for their bodies.” Xander's eyes grew dark again and a flare of anguish crossed his face, no doubt recalling names and faces that he'd lost in an instant of pain, terror and darkness. “Their lifeforce sucked dry by the power hungry desire of humans and you have the gall to call _us_ demons?” He flashed a red-tinged glare in Cassandra's direction, making the woman wince, but when she didn't refute her earlier statement or apologize, Xander seemingly deflated.

“We come from a place deeper in the Fade than you've ever seen,” Xander continued. “A place where we were content. A home we could gladly return to, should we be capable of such. But the Curse and the fact that the 'doorway' is shut to us, keeps us from that. For years, my people have waited, searched the manor for answers, for anything the cursed mages might have left behind, but we have turned up nothing.” The man shook his head, snarling the last word. “It is possible to perhaps recreate the original ritual, but it would no doubt require the lifeforce of one of you.”

Fae's eyes widened in alarm and she immediately shook her head. Xander looked at her in amusement. “Every few years, travelers get caught by the Curse and pulled into the manor, seemingly trapped by the rain as if you would melt in the downpour,” he chided. “I have tried sending my people home several times, but only a few manage to get through before the portal collapses on itself for lack of enough power.”

“You mean blood sacrifices,” Dorian spoke up, flatly, eyes narrowing at the tall man. Xander raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Of course. What else would we do with the blood but use it? If you remain any longer, the Curse will not allow you to leave when you attempt to. Celestia was correct in telling you to leave while you still have the chance.” He shook his head. “You may have attracted too much notice, however. The power your mage holds, and yourself, Inquisitor, might be too much for Mathias to withstand. He will attempt to keep you here.”

“Who's Mathias?” Fae asked. She looked like she wanted to stand, but thought better of it. What good would it do against the man, creature...lahmir? She could hardly intimidate him at this point. He seemed fully capable of protecting himself, though she was grateful neither Blackwall nor Cassandra had attempted to attack him yet.

“My brother,” came the only reply. “One by one, my people have succumbed to the Curse, fading into the very walls of this manor to sleep, only to be torn from that peace and pulled back into the world every night.” Celestia burrowed her head into his side and his arm went around her tightly. “Only I have remained, thanks to my daughter. I will not abandon her, though she does not deserve to be trapped here.”

“So you're saying you cannot return home,” Blackwall spoke up with a frown. Xander's eyes narrowed slightly, but he only nodded.

“Not until I am assured she will survive without me.”

“Father!” the girl protested, looking up with a glare. The corner of his mouth twitched in a broken smile, but didn't bother arguing with her.

Dorian exhaled and managed to scoot further up the bed, sitting up, though Fae protested his action immediately. He shook his head with a wince. “Dorian! Stop.” The mage only grunted until she huffed and gave him a look. “Oh, stop that, yourself.” He pointedly ignored the Inquisitor's 'puppy face' until she growled in defeat.

“Can you help us leave?” Dorian looked up at Xander, eyes narrowed, but the hand Fae was holding tightened. The last thing he needed was to be sacrificed. “I'm certainly not willing to become a sacrifice. I'm too pretty to die in such a way. Well.. in any way, really.” Blackwall snorted and Cassandra gave a disgusted snort while Fae stifled a giggle, trying to be serious and failing due to Dorian's quip, as usual. “No one is going to be sacrificed,” Fae frowned with a shake of her head. She stood, giving a glare up at Xander, who only raised an eyebrow at her expression.

“You may not have a choice,” he responded with a shake of his head. “I suggest you leave while you still can. If you become turned around and find yourself back at the gates, you have only yourselves to blame.” The tall man moved towards the door, urging his daughter in front. She slipped out the door quickly, but Cassandra narrowed her eyes and grabbed his arm.


	6. The Ritual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up much longer than intended, considering the length of the previous chapters. I thought about adjusting to fit, merging the others into a single one, then decided against it. I'm out of practice with writing in great lengths, but I'll leave it as is for now. Hopefully, that just means, we'll have much longer chapters for you folks in the future. Pretty sure the first 4 chapters were short due to p.o.v. I chose.
> 
> We finally get to the 'real' start of the story. Lorkan isn't really a kid, just the younger of the lahmir. Speaking of which, I may or may not have mentioned, but here:
> 
> Lahmir - The People (vampires) Essentially, my little creation of a Fade people that live in a much deeper part of the Fade. Sort of like the deep ocean or the heart of an enormous forest; it's a place that isn't ever touched by mortals and for the most part, aren't even aware it exists. The lahmir are happy to be ignored by Thedas mages, of course and would really rather NOT be trapped on this side of the Veil.

Before anyone could blink, a black fog condensed around Xander and the other three heard a thud. The fog cleared and Xander had her by the throat, off the ground and against the wall by the door with a snarl. Her eyes had snapped wide and she kicked out, connecting hard with his stomach. “Do. Not.” he snarled and Cassandra's eyes widened at whatever she saw on his face. Abruptly, he released her and moved out the door as the Seeker collapsed to her knees, coughing. Faelin dived over the bed and was at Cassandra's side before the door had swung shut, supporting the gasping woman. Blackwall at her other side.

“Cassandra! Are you all right?” Fae held onto the Seeker's arm as the woman slowly regained her breath. Dorian frowned, slowly shaking his head as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“He...” A cough cut off the rest of her words and she only grimaced with a sigh, rubbing her neck where spots were forming purplishh bruises.

“That was not a Fade-step,” Dorian offered, grimly. He briefly eyed the door, but only shook his head and stood carefully. Fae shot him a look full of concern, but he waved a hand. “We need to get out of here, it seems. I'd really rather not be trapped here any longer, as much as this place used to intrigue me to no end.”

~*~

No sooner had they exited the manor than the constant rain turned into hail. Unfortunately, Dorian's barriers did nothing against the hailstones and Fae shamelessly used Blackwall's greater bulk to partially shield herself from the icy rain. Thinking back on this, Dorian would no doubt be amused at how like a wet cat the rogue looked. He refused to consider how bad he himself must look and focused instead on their destination. For the moment, it was just aiming for the gate, but later, in the _warm_ Herald's Rest tavern, they could laugh and chat about their strange adventure.

“Funny. I've never seen fog in a hailstorm,” Blackwall muttered. Dorian looked up in surprise and frowned, looking around at the clear, if dark, courtyard around them. Cassandra frowned. 

“What fog?” In answer, Blackwall simply pointed towards the gate, where the strange white smoke filtered through the rain, just beginning to obscure the wrought iron gate. The four looked at one another and hurried their steps. They didn't seem to get any closer and Dorian recalled the strange lord of the manor's words with a sudden chill.

“Not good,” Cassandra muttered, her hand on the hilt of her sword. The light bruising around her neck had lessened thanks to Dorian's attempts at healing, but the ugly marks were still quite visible. They finally reached the fog and it curled around them eerily, ghosting along their skin like a cold hand. 

“Any more of this and my headache is going to have a headache,” Fae muttered, trying in vain to shield her head from the tiny hailstones. Dorian just grimaced and pulled his hood higher, envying the two warriors at this moment.

~*~

Twenty minutes later, Dorian frowned and looked around, belatedly realizing the others were nowhere to be found. “Fae?” he called, wincing as his voice immediately faded into the fog. He could barely see as the fog grew considerably thicker the more he remained outside and his heated barriers were only minimizing the bruises he was getting from the hail. “Seeker? _Blackwall_?” The mage sighed and hunched. “Andraste's tits,” he muttered. “My kingdom for a cave.” The mist swirled around him, light filtering through the rain as the hail lessened. Tiny pebbles giving way to just cold rain. Dorian sighed in relief and peered through the rain. He still couldn't see anything, but moving was better than just standing still, after all and he trudged through the ghostly fog. 

Every so often, he swore he heard voices; Cassandra's irritated tones and Blackwall's rumble. Turning towards what sounded like Fae's worried soprano, only to find the fog swirling in simulacrums of his companions. Fire lit in his palm and he lobbed a fizzling fireball at the fog halfheartedly, only to have the haze swirl innocently around his magic as the rain dissipated the flames.

A soft warmth curled around him, at first so slight, the mage didn't recognize it, but the warmer it got, his clothing began to steam. Startled, he looked down at himself to find the soft green of a barrier spell coating his body. _That isn't mine,_ he muttered to himself. Something told him to look up and he gave an undignified squeak to find Celestia standing there in the rain, but looking completely unbothered by it. In fact, Dorian squinted, her clothes didn't look affected by the pouring rain _at all._

“What?” he blurted, cleverly and the girl tilted her head, covering her mouth as she giggled at his expression. Her other hand held out to him as her face went serious.

“You need to get out of the rain, Dorian of House Pavus,” she said, matter of factly. Her voice echoed softly and the mage's eyes narrowed. Was she not really there? What was going on? Was it some trick of the curse that the pair continued to prat about? The more he was nearby, however, the less he found himself disbelieving the two. Hesitantly, he took a step closer and rested his hand in hers. It was surprisingly warm and quite solid. Immediately, she tugged on his hand and led him into the fog.

Within minutes, the manor formed out of the haze, making the mage heave a sigh of relief. Celestia pulled him through the doors and they shut with a quiet thud behind him. Then he was attacked by Fae, who wrapped her arms around him and buried her head against his chest. Dorian dropped his chin to her head and hugged her back, gratefully spying the two warriors. Even Blackwall looked relieved, which made him smile.

“I don't like this,” she whispered into his robes. Dorian sighed, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Celestia's father behind Cassandra, standing calmly in the doorway, watching them. 

“That's a bit of an understatement at this point, sweetheart,” he murmured back, his hand rubbing circles along her back. Celestia appeared beside her father and looked up at him, speaking too softly for the four humans to hear. Xander looked down at her, but shook his head. After a moment, however, he disengated from his daughter and moved into the room. Cassandra and Blackwall whirled at his soft clearing of throat, making his presence known where his silent footfalls hadn't. Cassandra narrowed her eyes, but didn't moved any closer, wary due to the last time she'd attempted such and the Warden only clutched the hilt of his sword. He didn't figure he'd have any better luck than the Seeker had, however, and remained where he was, watching the tall man move calmly into the middle of the room.

Fae finally turned, unearthing her face from her best friend and looked up at him carefully. “So you were right,” she started, but Xander held up a hand with a shake of his head.

“As much as it pains me, yes,” he finished, stopping only a few feet from the pair. “For your sake, I wish I was wrong. However, it is not to be. You still have the choice of leaving,” the lahmir turned to look at Dorian, who narrowed his eyes with a faint hiss.

“You are greatly mistaken if you believe I am _that_ shallow,” the mage returned, flatly, his arm tightening slightly on the rogue. “You do not get to assume my intentions due to my bloodline.”

Xander's silver eyes narrowed slightly, but he chuckled. “You say that like I would know what kind your people are,” he retorted with a quirk of his mouth. “I only know of mages that have encountered the manor.” He paused, then tilted his head slightly and the smirk grew. “Prove me wrong then, Tevinter mage.”

Fae gave a hissed breath and twisted out of Dorian's grasp, glaring up at the man. “I refuse to allow _anyone_ to sacrifice themselves on my behalf,” she snarled.

“There is another way,” came a light tenor voice. Xander's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. The four turned to see a tall red-haired man in soft, but rich tunic and black pants, hair pulled back at the nape of his neck in a neat ponytail. Soothing colors of deep russet red and brown shimmered on the silk of his vest. The style and cut was similar to Xander's own, though the red eyes set him apart immediately. As did the gleam as he watched the four humans almost hungrily. His hands were calmly held behind him as he stepped into the room and Xander gave a sigh.

“Explain, Mathias,” he ordered and the newcomer dipped his head towards the taller man. “You told me the human's blood was the only way to open the deeper portal.”

Mathias shook his head slightly, his clasped hands dropping to his side as one lifted absently and lightning flickered across his fingers like a coin trick. “Lorkan and I have recently come across some new information in one of the previously unavailable rooms above,” he offered, mildly. “One of the older wraiths managed to get through the wall this time.” Xander looked surprised, but nodded slowly.

“That is good, then,” Mathias nodded, moving closer, though Dorian did not trust the smile the man offered. “Blood may not be required, but his personal store of mana. The more powerful the mage, of course, the more likely he is to survive,” the man explained and Xander nodded, shifting slightly in thought.

“No,” Fae started, but Dorian let out a breath. “Fae, sweetheart,” he started and she turned to him, her eyes wide, “There doesn't seem to be any other choice.” His voice was quiet and he kept his emotions under control. The last thing she needed was to hear how ill-advised he thought this entire venture was, but what option _was_ there any longer?

“I refuse to lose you, too, Dorian,” the rogue shook her head with a growl. Her hands reached up to grab his robes and the mage grasped her wrists. “After...Adamant...” she trailed off with a hiccup. “I...c-can't, Dorian! Don't...don't ask me. Not you.”

“There is no other way, Inquisitor, if you wish to survive,” Mathias' silky voice whispered through the room and she turned to glare at him. The other man's smile only widened imperceptibly. “You must open the rift and Aedan will be able to convert the human's power to pull the Deep Portal open long enough for us to return home.”

“I have a name,” Dorian muttered, but both lahmir ignored him. Fae gave a shuddering breath and her gaze dropped to the floor, defeated. Dorian pulled her against him. “Just think. When I survive, it will only vex Cassandra.” The Seeker in question only rolled her eyes, though Blackwall cracked a smile. The mage straightened, letting out a breath and fixing his mustache carefully as he watched the two tall men. Before he could ask, however, Xander straightened, as if returning to life from his statuesque pose and moved off, the limp slightly more pronounced than it had been before.

Mathias turned his head, watching the other man move off before returning his gaze to the others pointedly. “The two of you are unneeded,” he spoke up as the four reluctantly moved after the man. Cassandra glared when he held up a hand, separating Fae and Dorian from the other two. Fae halted, turning with a frown. “If you want this, Mathias,” she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest, all but spitting his name, “you'll leave them be.”

He only turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “The others will eat them alive. They are safer here, but if you insist...” Mathias crossed an arm and gave her a full bow of mocking arrogance.

“It's not worth it,” Blackwall muttered, putting a hand on Cassandra's arm. She paused with a glare at Mathias' back, but only gave a sigh and nodded. “We will be right here, Inquisitor,” the Seeker muttered, shoving her half-pulled sword back into its sheath with a grunt. No doubt, Cassandra was still recalling the brief scuffle she'd had with Xander and wondered just how much more powerful this Mathias was. Xander hadn't shown whether he was a mage, meanwhile his brother had calmly shown off before they'd even been introduced. Fae looked about to object, but a soft word from Dorian caused her to turn around and let out a frustrated breath.

Dorian waited next to Xander, partially down the small hall. Dread coiled in her gut as she strode towards them, pointedly not looking in Xander's direction, but the man forced her to look at him as he stepped closer. Fae swallowed bile and straightened, steadying herself to calm the irrational fear that curdled her stomach.

“Good. You will need that strength,” the man offered mysteriously, nodding to her. For a moment, Fae swore she saw something flit across his face, but it was gone too quickly to tell. Regret? Sadness? She couldn't be sure, but she stiffened with a sharp sniff when he grasped her arm. “I realize the timing is horrible, but there is something I must ask of you, Inquisitor,” he added. Dorian raised an sarcastic eyebrow and scoffed, but Fae only narrowed her eyes.

“Speak then,” she returned, evenly. Xander nodded slightly.

“I understand it is unfair to ask, but I must ensure Celestia is, at least, safe,” he continued, his eyes looking at something behind her, but he refocused immediately when she frowned. “My request is that you take her with you. She is young, even by your standards, but she has been able to leave the manor at times, to hunt for her food. She is trained in many skills that can be of aid to your Inquisiton.”

“You realize that's not exactly keeping her safe,” Fae objected, dryly, but Xander only shook his head. “We're in the middle of a war.”

“She is safer with you than here,” he replied, eyebrows frowning down at her, but she realized, not really at her. “You still do not understand, but there is no time to actually explain. Perhaps if I'd...” He trailed off as Mathias came up behind them and straightened, then gave a sigh. “No matter. Think on my words, Inquisitor.” With that, Xander released her and led the way further down the hall.

They entered a through a door that Dorian swore hadn't been there before. Tense, he moved inside, but halted in surprise. The room was warm, with candles littering every available surface. The tapestries on the walls were well-kept, not ratty like the rest of the manor, and the thick carpets were vibrant with color. A few other figures were standing across the room and they both looked up at their entrance. Eyes like red fire watched the two humans and Dorian suppressed a shiver. 

Mathias moved past his brother towards two others and immediately began speaking quietly to them. Dorian shifted slightly as the walls began to crawl and shook his head, trying to clear it by looking away. He caught Fae's look, but only shook his head with a sharp nod to the four Fade-people. _Creatures_ , he admitted to himself, _implied feral animals._ Despite their apparent aggression, Xander was hardly an animal. He couldn't be too sure about Mathias, however, but Xander seemed...sad.

The thick carpeting muffled their footsteps, though Fae realized with a start that the four lahmir hadn't been heard, even on stone floor. She tensed further at the feeling of crowding and looked around. They could do little but wait, unfortunately, and Fae sidled closer to Dorian, who patted her back. “I should be the one reassuring you,” she muttered against his sleeve, but he only shook his head ruefully.

“I have had a lifetime masking my emotions, sweetheart,” he sighed, not taking his eyes off the _predators_ in front of them to avoid getting seasick at the shifting walls, but his stomach was still coiling unpleasantly. “You Marchers have a lot to learn.” She gave him a half-hearted glare, but only straightened when Xander strode towards them. Of the two she had met, Xander seemed almost human in his interactions with them. Mathias watched them from the dais with the other two as they set out what was clearly ritual incense and one of the others pulls back a heavy curtain to reveal an empty gilded frame that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. 

“Originally, this was simply a set 'doorway' to the Fade,” Xander offered, leading them closer, though he stopped at the base of the small stairs. “The Three used power from the Fade itself, pulling energy to create the breach and snapped it to the existing frame.”

“It cracked the frame the last time we used it,” Mathias offered, dryly, nodding to a large hairline fracture that bisected several of the gaudy scrollwork along the top lefthand corner. Fae frowned at the information and looked to Dorian, who could only shake his head.

Xander picked up the explanation after a moment. “As Mathias spoke, we have used other mages who've been trapped here, but the power has never been sufficient to both tear the Veil, open the portal to the Deep _and_ let more than a few of my people return home. It always crashes with a fatalistic explosion that causes the mage's death within a few minutes,” he paused, then looked pointedly towards Fae, who was glaring at him. Xander gave a small quick of his lips and shook his head. “This should not happen with you opening the door, so to speak. Your connection to the Fade will take that much more requirement off your mage friend's shoulders, enabling him provide enough energy to hold the other door open for us.”

“Preferably without the cost to my life,” Dorian quipped. Xander nodded and added, “It should not come to that.”

“As I said,” Mathias moved up next to his brother with an easy smile, “I have found something that will make the transition of power that much smoother.” Xander nodded and the other man continued. “A simple ritual that will connect the two of your minds temporarily. Originally, Xander would pull the energy from the mage, but with you being a trifle more willing than the last as well, it should take less lifeforce on your part, human.”

“That doesn't sound very safe,” Fae muttered, but let out a breath. Instead, she focused on the empty frame. There was no latent rift there, though something still pulled at the Anchor and she realized whatever had been there, the 'doorway' could still be opened. Just a bit harder from this side. The rogue frowned as that thought occurred to her, but let out a breath again. She wasn't a mage and was happy leaving the magey-bits, as Sera would say, to the mages. Especially Dorian. He made magic seem, well, magical, and not some clinical occurrence like Vivienne, or a theological explanation like Solas would have used.

“In any case, it is not far from nightfall,” Xander finished with a brief glance back at the door. “Celestia will keep the others away from your companions for the time being. You will be allowed a final rest here in the castle before Celestia will escort you through the forest. She knows how to circumnavigate the pull of the Curse for a time. It should be long enough to get you back to your camps.” Silently, Fae nodded, looking down at the Anchor that was readily becoming more of a curse than a boon to her. If Corypheous didn't try to kill her for it, something else apparently did.

~*~

An hour later, both humans jumped at the sudden flip-flop of the room as wraiths materialized from the walls. Dorian gave a quiet moan, closing his eyes as the walls crawled with the crowd. Occasionally, a wraith would solidify and move closer to the pair, but Xander would give them a pointed look and they'd move off apologetically. A lahmir that barely looked out of his teens moved over with a bow towards Xander. “We are ready, my lord,” he spoke up. Xander only nodded and the man moved back to his place next to Mathias. Xander turned towards Dorian and held out a hand.

“The smaller ritual shouldn't take long, then we will be ready for you, Inquisitor,” he offered a brief nod towards her and the three moved up the stairs. Dorian refrained from accepting the hand, but followed the lahmir.

“What does this smaller ritual entail, exactly?” Dorian demanded, stopping at the top step and staring at Xander, who seem unaffected by the human's expression of distrust.

“A sharing of blood, only,” Xander responded. Instantly, both Fae and Dorian stiffened.

“I refuse to be part of anything blood-related,” Dorian snapped. The room, which had been quietly filled with whispered conversation, was suddenly echoingly silent. Xander's eyes narrowed, but stepped closer.

“You no longer have a choice, human,” he retorted with a soft snarl. “You agreed to assist us. If you wish us gone from your world, you will help.” Fae stepped forwards, grabbing his arm, but it was like grabbing a statue. She ignored the alarm at such inhuman strength.

“You could have mentioned this before,” she snapped, but Xander shook his head with a mocking laugh. “It would have made little difference in the end, Inquisitor,” he returned easily, though his tone almost mocked her title. “You will still do this to save your companions, no?” Fae shook her head and tightened her grip.

“No,” Dorian interjected. “There are many things we will not do, bloodmagic is one of them.” The lahmir surrounding them began murmuring aggressively, but Dorian pointedly ignored them.

“Ah, but it is _not_ blood magic, per sey,” the younger lahmir interjected brightly. He stepped closer with a duck of his head towards Xander and gave the two humans a real smile. His eyes remained worried, but his face was more welcoming than any of the others had been. “Our specific brand of magic, as you call it, is much different than what you call on the Fade to use,” the young man explained. “Though it requires blood, the similarity ends.” Xander gives the younger lahmir a look and he shrugged sheepishly. “I, um, found a book on it behind several others? There really is no similarity beyond blood-usage. Why in the Fade would I call on a demon to _help_ me? They're little more than rats of the Fade, really. Hardly dangerous unless you displace them forcibly. Your explanations of the Fade really are horribly incorrect.”

“Lorkan,” Xander gave a slight warning in his tone, but also marginally fond and the young man ducked his head. “Oh yes, off-topic. My apologies. Blood magic, yes. We don't _use_ blood in our magic. It is a part of us, a part of our survival. Our very existence requires the blood of others. It is a deficiency that Thedas has, apparently, the natural inclination towards feeding is much harder to com by without the abundance of, ahem, rats.”

“Wait...you...feed on _demons?_ ” Fae jerked back, her eyes wide. Dorian only watched the two lahmir warily. Feeding on demons was tantamount to blood magic by Thedas' understanding.

“Spiritual energy, yes,” Lorkan responded with a bright smile, looking like a proud tutor whose pupil got the correct answer. “They're few and far between here and the pull of your very blood is much brighter.” Xander shifted slightly and Lorkan looked sheepish again. “Your world is so much different than ours. The very rules are odd.”

Was it possible the rules of blood magic were different? Dorian shook his head, watching the lahmir surrounding them and feeling the weight of their gazes at the sudden halt. He was beginning to notice a similarity between them. Most of them simply wanted to go home. Dorian sighed, but shook his head. The choice of using blood magic or saving Fae's life, setting her free. 

Suddenly, Mathias was behind Fae, pulling her against him with a soft hiss. Dorian's head snapped up, lightening crackled along his arms to fire, but just as suddenly, a hand clutched the back of his neck and his magic fizzled. The mage staggered at the sudden lack of mana as it was harshly pulled, the feeling not so dissimilar as a hasty Silence from a templar. Realizing belatedly that Xander had moved behind him in the same moment Mathias had grabbed Fae, neither human had even been aware the two lahmir had moved. Fae struggled in the iron grip, but Mathias only smirked. Xander let out a breath behind Dorian. “You have no other choice, human – Dorian,” came the velvety voice behind him, unexpectedly sending an icy shiver down the mage's spine at the sound of his name. “The effect is temporary and once finished, you will be free to catch up with your companions.”

“What....did you do?” he managed, trying to straighten in Xander's grasp. The weakness drained not just his mana, but the strength of his limbs and he tried to avoid leaning against the taller man behind him and failed.

“We can temporarily halt the flow of your mana,” Lorkan responded uneasily, watching the pair struggle with a worried look. He held a small goblet and moved towards Dorian. Xander's grip shifted to merely holding the human upright, though Dorian managed to keep himself from collapsing completely as Lorkan gathered a bit of the lahmir's blood in the glass and stepped back. He waited until the mage was able to stand himself, then offered the goblet to him. Dorian thought briefly about knocking it to the floor, but the grip on his waist tightened almost painfully and he let out a breath, cold fingers grasping the stem carefully. He grimaced as he looked down at the filled goblet in his hand, trying to imagine it was just a thick sort of wine. “For the record, I hate you all,” he muttered and knocked it back trying to avoid tasting it as much as possible.


End file.
